


Hero

by rizlowwritessortof



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 22:07:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9518144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rizlowwritessortof/pseuds/rizlowwritessortof
Summary: This is my seventh installment for @mrs-squirrel-chester ‘s Album Fanfic Writing Challenge. My album is Smokin’ Hearts and Broken Guns - Shaman’s Harvest. This one was inspired by Hero from that album.





	

_We’ve made it alive while the music plays tonight, oh yeah._  
If this is a test then our will is good   
again and again   
We levy the flood while the back beats in our blood   
And won’t you feel like a big hero   
When we’re finally left out here alone   
  
So many ways to die choose one   
Don’t cry you fortunate son   
I will feed the fire till your eardrums blister   
I’ve got an imagination if you wanna test me further   
How can you stand there and call me brother   
Treading on patience quiet as a whisper   
But when the lights come on and you’re not around   
Well they’ll soon come runnin’   
  


_And won’t you feel like a big hero  
When we’re finally left out here alone_

__

The beer bottles make a muffled ‘clink’ as Sam grabs them one-handed, handing one to Dean before he plops down into the lawn chair.

“Thanks. Nice to have a little breather, ya know? Seems like there’s no end of monsters lately.” Dean takes a long swallow, gives an appreciative ‘ahhh,’ settling back into his chair with his long legs stretched out in front of him. “Hey, Sammy. Ever think about when we first started hunting with Dad?” 

Sam shrugs. “Yeah. Sometimes.” 

Dean’s lips curve into a one-sided smile, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. “Remember that werewolf pack in Montana? They were having themselves one hell of a party until we showed up.” 

“That deafening music playing while we ganked them all? It was a little surreal, that’s for sure.” 

“God, we were babies. You got clawed pretty good, remember? Dad was always so Marine about injuries, too. I mean, that was really your first time getting hurt on the job. He was a tough son of a bitch.” 

Sam sighs a little with a touch of a smile. “Yeah. I was glad he finally let you take over the stitching.”

Dean chuckles. “First time I ever did it. You’re lucky you didn’t end up with a scar that would scare women and children.” 

“It was on my chest.” 

“Yeah, well, you know how you love to take your shirt off, flash those abs of yours.” 

“Fuck you.” 

Dean laughs, takes another drink. “Remember how we used to talk about hunting without Dad? We couldn’t wait to be out on our own. Tired of following orders all the time, tired of always doing things his way.” 

“Yeah, well – you always followed orders better than I did. God, I always gave you so much shit about that. I was always bucking against him, not that it did any good. He always won.” Sam shakes his head with a smile. “I was kind of a pain in the ass back then.” 

“Back then?” Dean laughs as Sam shoots him a half-amused bitch face. “He was good, Sammy. He knew this shit. He wanted us to learn the right way, to be smart about it. At the time, it was annoying as hell. But you have to admit – the old man was the best.” 

“He was. He was hard, and he had a temper, but he took care of us. Made sure we knew how to protect ourselves. Taught us how important it was to protect other people.” 

They sit in silence for a few minutes, looking out over the lake. Dean looks down, picking at the label on his beer. “I miss him, Sammy.” 

Sam nods, chewing at his lip a little. “Yeah, me too, Dean. Me, too.” 

Silence settles over them, peaceful. The breeze ripples the water of the lake, makes the long grass bow gracefully before it. When Dean finally moves again, he lifts his beer to his lips and drains it, dropping it to the grass beside him and reaching for the little green cooler between their chairs. “Another beer, Sam?” 

“Sure, why not?” 

“Wanna fish for a while?” 

“Yeah. I’ll grab the tackle box.”


End file.
